


but please, don't bite

by foxtoveni



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Little Red Riding Hood, Blood and Gore, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Red Riding Hood Klance AU, characters will be tagged as they appear, might be some angst idk yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 16:13:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10790088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxtoveni/pseuds/foxtoveni
Summary: "Whatever I lack, you make up. We make a really good team, though not everyone sees. We got this crazy chemistry between us." -for him, by Troye Sivan.Local wolf boy steals Riding Hood’s cookies and heart.





	but please, don't bite

**Author's Note:**

> I have two unfinished fics yet I start another one. Why do I do this to myself.  
> Also this red riding hood klance au has been done before at least five times but does that stop me? no
> 
> Fic’s title from the song “BITE” by Troye Sivan. This chapter's title "two halves of one heart" is also from the song "for him". I LOVE TROYE'S SONGS OKAY. THEY GIVE ME KLANCE FEELS AND I LOVE HIS SONGS IN GENERAL.

Keith strolled through the dusty woodland path as he carried a hefty whisker basket, careful not to spill its contents he neatly dodged stray logs and rocks in the path, humming a peppy tune, that was a rather eerie nursery rhyme, to himself while he did so.

 

The loose ground softly crunched under his worn boots, the casual chatters of animals and blowing wind only adding to the soothing atmosphere that relaxed his muscles, chasing away the unsettling darkness and silence. That’s not to say the woods during daytime weren’t just as unnerving, though.

 

The man cloaked in a red hooded cape participated in trades for goods. He would often interchange his homemade pastries for bread, meat, rice and whatever it was that he needed. That’s not exactly how things run though, you still needed money to survive, but Keith had saved the baker who lost his way through the woods and as a form of thanks, the two agreed to interchange foods. The village baker, Hunk, had also offered him a job when he found out Keith was poor and unemployed, and Keith graciously accepted it. His schedule was only Mondays and Tuesdays which he has peacefully worked on, with all of this it was needless to say Keith had grown used to these woods, not only that but he was more than capable of self-defense. After his mother died and his father mysteriously disappeared, orphaning him at the age of seven, Keith had to survive one way or another.

 

Keith was soon drawn out of his musings when a distant rumble behind the bushes growled within earshot and with steps halting to a stop, Keith’s free hand was quick to settle and hover over the sheathed blade at his side.

 

All out of the sudden the woods seemed more quieter than they usually would be, the winds stopped and all woodland critters silenced, as if something bigger and stronger drove them far away to hide and cower in fear. But not Keith, instead of running away from the danger, he stood his ground and crouched, daring to peer into the darkness between the trees.

 

The noise of charging footsteps and crunching leaves scatter up behind him, prompting Keith to whip out his knife and twirl his body around, but much to his dismay the attack, soon comes from behind. A tall woosh of blue jumped from the bushes and Keith acted fast, jutting his arm out to the air with fingers tight around the basket’s handle to keep the food safe, blade skidding across the path once his backside had met the ground in a loud thump and ‘oof’ from both members.

 

If the fall hurt or not, Keith didn’t process, instead his brain focused on the half-furred, clawed hands just a tad longer than his own reaching out for the basket. The claws clacked against the fragile thing, scratching it up just a bit. _Don’t you dare_ had warned Keith, but the culprit only flashed his shark-like teeth down in a grin. Just then he comes to realize the creature had him pinned, with his own legs tight under and between the other’s legs and his previously armed hand down in the clutch of the other furry hand.

 

The chompers of the humanoid wolf were opening up, inching closer and closer to the vulnerable flesh of Keith’s face and he could do nothing but watch in onlooking horror as his body locked in place and breath bounced off his skin. Then, a long and pointed tongue hung out and licked up the side of his face.

 

“Aw, c’mon,” Keith groaned, “Lance! What did I tell you about sneaking up on me?”  
  
The humanoid - Lance - snickered, “That I’m a good boy?” He said, unhinging his hand from red riding hood’s wrist.

 

Keith snorts, “Sure.” he retorted and rolled his eyes, playfully shoving at Lance’s shoulder. “Now get off me, you’re not getting any of these cookies, wolf boy.” Before Lance could swat anymore at the basket, Keith snuck a hand under the wolf’s armpit and started tickling.

 

Lance had stopped the fight over the basket then, Keith noticed, his body spasming and vocal chords roaring into a weird but wonderful amalgamation of noises, but Keith could pick up on the giggles and perky whines here and there. He drove the man off of him, bound of his attack on Lance’s armpit with tickling fingers until the tables were turned and Keith was the one on top, pinning the other down.

 

Keith’s hand eventually came to a stop, he trailed it up and patted Lance’s head and waited for him to come down from the spasming giggle fit high. Once the man seemed to calm down, Keith’s lips parted and said, “Now be a good boy and don’t try to steal Hunk’s pastries. Understood?”  
  
Lance was clearly displeased. He juts out his bottom lip and sits up, nearly throwing Keith off his balance but he saved himself a fall by throwing out his arm; Lance is too busy reaching out a hand, batting at the food basket Keith so desperately tries to keep away from the hands of the cookie-stealer.  “C’mon, just _one!”_  Lance demanded. “Hunk won’t mind!”

 

Keith himself was too busy with other things to spare a cookie or tell Lance to stop, because now that his mind had grown self-aware he noticed the rather suggestive and awkward position he finds himself in. His hips were just about glued to Lance’s crotch, both legs around the man’s waist while he bounced and wiggled for the cookies, in turn making Keith literally _grind_ _into him._

 

Keith’s not sure how Lance has not noticed this, but Keith’s fully aware that to the naked eye they’ll think two men are having fun in the woods in a mostly-abandoned trail and his crotch was certainly having its own reaction at the friction, different from Keith’s fluster. He sputters, catching Lance by surprise of the sudden gibberish and frantic scatter.

 

“What’s wrong?” Lance coos, “Did my charms scare you?” Lance spoke, shooting the amazing convo of finger guns and a wink. “Fret not, Hood, I don’t bite. Much.”

 

“ _Something like that,”_ Keith chokes after a moment, taking a moment to breath in and settling down his flaming body. Thank God for the long cloak _and_ for the clueless look Lance sported toward Keith’s reaction once more. He’s not really sure if he’s ready to confess the major crush he has on him.

 

Keith checked the basket then, making sure it was all okay, then slapped a hand over his skin tight suit, dusting off dirt and leaves that had stuck to the dark purple fabric, then moved onto the cloak until it as clean; his hand stopped and stuck in mid motion in his last action, noting the blade no longer in his sheath, he had taken it out and dropped it but _where_ , because when he snaps his head up and cranes his neck around the blade is nowhere to be seen.

 

Panic doesn’t seep in though, what comes down on him is a groan as he moves his head back to his side where Lance at some point had gotten. He stood well over four inches tall, grin blindingly bright and wide with his body shifted in a hands-on-hips stance. In one of those hands was Keith’s knife.  
  
“Please give it back,” Keith pleads.

 A more tamed but smug grin works its way on Lance’s features, “Give back what?” Lance responds.  
  
“The blade.”  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“For the love of-  _fine,”_ Keith’s known this man long enough to know what he’s asking for. So he flipped one end of the basket open, taking a chocolate chip and a blueberry cookie between two of his fingers. “Here.” Keith hands them out, nudging the basket for the lid to fall shut. He can see Lance’s excitement just about to rocket off into space with the help of his tail wagging like a propeller.

 

Lance tossed the blade and Keith swiftly caught it (thankfully the basket was around his elbow at that point, so he safely tucks it back into the sheath) as Lance passed by him and nearly tackled his arm, but he was a gentle one and just picked off the cookies with two bites and swallowed - without hurting Keith’s hand.

 

Keith pulls back his arm, patting the top of Lance’s head between his messy and jagged ears. “Off you go now,” he orders. “I’m not risking you getting too close to the village. _Again._  We wouldn’t want a dumb human hurting my wolf man now. Shoo,” he gently bats a hand toward the crouching Lance who in return sticks out his tongue. Keith sighs, he wasn’t joking - the fur of a humanoid wolf like Lance was pretty popular among the spoiled rich. Villagers would skin the poor things and become rich themselves from it, and Keith hated that.

 

“-of defense!” Lance finishes, looking proud and mighty. “Plus, I’m a _wolf ._ Don’t forget that.”

 

“Sorry, what?” Keith blinks.

 

“You weren’t listening, were you?”

 

“...Sorry again, no,” Keith smiles apologetically, scratching the growing stubble of his chin. “But really though, I don’t wanna lose you. If I find out some dumb spoiled rich kid’s wearing your skin I might just go to jail for first-degree murder.”

 

That seemed to knock Lance. He gave a genuine smile and nudged Keith, “Alrighty, Hood,” Lance growls playfully, “I’ll see you ‘round. Say hi to Hunk for me!” Lance barks and gives one last lick to Keith’s face before he hops away and disappears from sight, only his feral footprints and distant laughing left behind.

 

“You owe me!” Keith yells back and smiles, wiping off the saliva with a distinct smell of blueberry cookies. He ought to make a full batch of cookies for Lance sometime, it’s quite amazing seeing a carnivore enjoy pastries so much. Not even meat pies, but _blueberry pies._

 

Keith cleans off the rest of the saliva and combs his hair back down, tugging on the hood and continuing his trail down the path. Sometimes Lance would actually _be_ in the village, sneaking and following him around and each time Keith panicked. Every time he heard a gunshot go off, the pained howl of an animal, saw _blood_ , Keith would always assume the worst. But thankfully nearly every day he’d see Lance or hear his voice in the distance.

  
That wolf man will be the death of him someday.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the read! I got the idea after seeing viiperfish’s Red Riding Hood Klance artwork on tumblr, which outfits (and Lance’s humanoid wolf/wolfman design) I imagine in this lil fic, too. Not sure how long it's gonna be, considering I have to finish two other fics


End file.
